PRAYER  AS  A POWER. 


BACCALAUREATE  DISCOURSE, 

DELIVERED  AT 


DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE, 


JUNE  22,  1873. 


BY  ASA  D.  SMITH, 

PRESIDENT. 


CONCORD,  N.  H.  : 

PRINTED  BY  THE  REPUBLICAN  PRESS  ASSOCIATION. 

1873. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


https://archive.org/details/prayeraspowerbacOOsmit 


DISCOURSE. 


GENESIS  32:  28. 

“For  as  a prince  hast  thou  power  with  God  and 

WITH  MEN,  AND  HAST  PREVAILED.” 

The  spirit  of  prayer,  in  a qualified  sense  of  the 
expression,  may  not  inaptly  be  classed  among  the 
natural  instincts.  There  is  in  the  human  soul,  with 
all  its  pride  and  self-exaltation,  a deep  and  ineradica- 
ble sense  of  dependence.  We  are  neither  self-made, 
we  feel,  nor  self-sustained.  We  lean  perpetually  on 
props  without  us.  In  our  blindness  and  weakness, 
and  in  the  insufficiency  of  all  earthly  aids  and  re- 
sources, we  turn,  by  a resistless  inward  prompting,  to 
a power  above  us.  The  idea  of  God,  if  it  be  not 
innate,  is  at  least  most  natural — of  a God  who  can 
and  will  help  us,  and  whose  ear  is  open  to  our  cry. 
So  prayer  has  a place  in  all  religions.  There  is  not 
a mythology  but  embraces  it ; there  is  not  a creed, 
either  of  Christian  or  non-Christian  lands,  but  gives  it 
warrant  and  prominence.  Nay,  there  is  scarce  a 
human  being,  especially  where  the  light  of  revelation 


4 


shines,  who  does  not,  after  some  form  or  manner,  at 
times  if  not  habitually,  take  the  attitude  of  a sup- 
pliant. This  normal  tendency  of  our  being  is  well 
set  forth  by  Mrs.  Barbauld.  "If  prayer,”  she  says, 
"were  not  enjoined  to  the  perfection,  it  would  be  per- 
mitted to  the  weakness  of  our  nature.  We  should 
be  betrayed  into  it  if  we  thought  it  sin ; and  pious 
ejaculations  would  escape  our  lips,  though  we  were 
obliged  to  preface  them  with — 6 God  forgive  me  for 
praying.’  ” 

But  man,  in  his  fallen  estate,  is  a bundle  of  contra- 
dictions ; and  so,  in  this  relation,  as  in  many  others, 
there  is  often  a lurking,  if  not  an  outspoken  skepti- 
cism. " They  say,  How  doth  God  know,  and  is  there 
knowledge  with  the  Most  High?”  And  "what  profit 
shall  we  have  if  we  pray  unto  him  ? ” It  is  the  ten- 
dency of  modern  infidelity  to  eliminate  all  the  great 
personalities  from  religion,  and  to  substitute  for  them 
unintelligent,  impassive  forces.  It  either  takes  from 
us  wholly  a personal  God,  or  the  privilege,  at  least, 
of  communion  with  him.  And  "science,  falsely  so 
called,”  lends  to  the  doubter  her  glass  and  her  cruci- 
ble. In  all  the  potencies  she  recognizes,  prayer  has 
no  place.  It  may  be  a harmless  and  pleasant  employ- 
ment— a profitable  exercise  to  the  suppliant  himself. 
But  beyond  that,  she  sees  no  fruit  of  it.  Sad,  indeed, 
are  these  questionings  in  one  view,  but  in  another  we 
rejoice  in  them.  The  recent  discussions  have  turned 


5 


t 

the  thought  of  all  Christendom  to  this  great  subject. 
The  truth  in  regard  to  it  has  been  unfolded  as  never 
before ; and  it  will  be  more  and  more  eclaircized. 
God  will  be  more  fully  revealed  to  men,  and  men 
will  be  brought  nearer  to  the  divine  Fatherhood.  As 
presented  in  the  text — one  of  the  most  remarkable 
in  the  Word  of  God — and  as  commended,  especially, 
to  those  who  are  just  beginning  the  great  battle  of 
life,  it  will  not  be  found,  surely,  an  inappropriate  or 
unprofitable  subject.  This  passage  has  reference  to 
the  great  supplicatory  struggle  of  the  patriarch  Jacob 
■ — that  wondrous  night-scene,  when  “ there  wrestled  a 
man  with  him  until  the  breaking  of  the  day.”  With- 
out entering  into  the  particulars  of  the  inspired  nar- 
rative, it  will  suffice  to  say,  that,  as  well  in  its  unique 
symbolism  as  its  literal  statements,  it  naturally  sug- 
gests as  our  theme,  Prayer  as  a Power. 

It  is  a power,  I remark  first,  following  the  order 
of  the  text,  with  God . It  is  so,  not  because  of  any 
might  or  worthiness  in  us,  but  of  his  gracious  ordina- 
tion. He  has  said, 66  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive.”  And 
this  is  repeated  and  reiterated,  in  a thousand  forms 
and  relations,  from  the  beginning  of  the  Bible  to  its 
close.  Prayer  is  not  only  set  forth  as  a privilege,  but 
enjoined  as  a duty.  And  it  is  urged  upon  us  by 
an  infinite  variety  of  motives,  now  drawn  from  the 
sterner  attributes  of  God,  and  now  from  the  milder. 
It  is  so  presented,  that  we  must  needs  take  the 


6 


simplest  view  of  it.  It  is  in  literal  truthfulness 
he  speaks,  when  he  calls  himself  the  hearer  and 
answerer  of  prayer.  Otherwise  to  judge  is  to  make 
the  whole  drift  of  the  scriptures,  in  this  relation,  a 
mockery  and  a lie.  We  are  to  come  to  our  Heavenly 
Father  as  children  to  an  earthly;  we  are  to  ask  as 
they  ask,  and  receive  as  they  receive.  To  conceive 
of  it  as  only  a spiritual  gymnastic,  putting  the  sup- 
pliant in  a good  mood,  but  having  no  further  issue,  is 
to  make  it  little  more  than  a vain  show,  and  the 
promises  that  authorize  it  a pretentious  illusion.  Nay, 
it  would  be  hard,  in  this  view,  to  save  it  from  con- 
tempt. Think  of  an  earthly  father  directing  and 
encouraging  his  children  to  ask  favors  of  him,  and 
then  saying,  “ I bade  you  ask,  with  no  thought  of 
giving,  but  only  of  the  good  the  asking  would  do 
you.  I deemed  it  a profitable  mental  and  moral  dis- 
cipline.”  Under  such  conditions,  how  soon  would  all 
prayer  cease — nay,  all  reverence. 

As  to  the  blessings  to  be  secured,  the  range  is  vast. 
That  it  includes  spiritual  mercies,  few  who  believe  in 
prayer  at  all  are  disposed  to  doubt.  Some,  indeed, 
limit  its  efficacy  to  these — as  to  the  pardon  of  sin,  to 
the  joy  of  God’s  salvation,  to  the  cleansing  of  the 
heart,  to  the  wisdom  we  lack,  and  to  the  influences  of 
God’s  Spirit  generally.  Of  these,  as  subjects  and 
issues  of  prayer,  the  Bible  makes  emphatic  mention. 
But  it  mentions,  also,  temporal  benefits.  There  is 


7 


scarce  a good  pertaining  to  the  present  life  but  it 
particularly  names,  either  as  a thing  to  be  prayed 
for,  or  which  prayer  has  secured.  I need  not  remind 
you  how  the  sick  have  been  healed,  prison  gates  have 
been  opened,  armies  have  been  put  to  flight,  the 
heavens  have  given  rain,  and  even,  as  in  the  case  of 
Daniel,  the  secrets  of  Providence  have  been  unlocked. 
Our  Heavenly  Father  has  indeed  put  into  the  hands, 
of  his  children,  so  to  speak,  a blank  petition,  to  be 
filled  up  at  their  pleasure.  “ Be  careful  for  nothing ; 
but  in  everything,  by  prayer  and  supplication,  with 
thanksgiving,  let  your  requests  be  made  known  unto 
God.”  “ In  everything” — blessed  amplitude  of  grace ! 
We  may  bring  to  the  mercy-seat  our  minor  as  well  as 
our  major  troubles.  Whatever  is  a burden  to  us, 
whether  from  its  own  weight,  or  from  our  weakness, 
it  is  our  privilege  to  cast  upon  the  great  Burden- 
bearer.  In  this  respect  as  in  others,  “ to  him  no  high, 
no  low,  no  great,  no  small.”  Nor  does  the  thought  of 
God’s  care  for  the  lesser  matters,  as  for  the  falling  spar- 
row and  for  the  hairs  of  our  heads,  detract  at  all  from 
his  general  providence.  It  was  a fine  saying  of  Ralph 
Waldo  Emerson  concerning  Froude,  that  he  “is  able 
to  see  and  say  wholes,  and  to  see  and  say  particulars.” 
There  was  a certain  divinity  of  his  genius  in  this 
regard.  So,  on  an  infinitely  broader  scale,  God  knows 
how  to  harmonize,  in  his  providence,  wholes  with  par- 
ticulars, and  particulars  with  each  other.  “Providence 


8 


is  making  a great  stir  for  you,”  it  was  remarked 
once,  with  a slight  tinge  of  sarcasm,  to  a man  who 
had  been  devoutly  recounting  God’s  gracious  order- 
ings of  his  private  affairs.  “Yes,  for  me,”  the  reply 
was,  “but  for  others  as  well,  and  in  the  self-same 
events.” 

11  In  human  works,  though  labored  on  with  pain, 

A thousand  movements  scarce  one  purpose  gain  ; 

In  God’s,  one  single  can  its  end  produce, 

Which  serves  to  second,  too,  some  other  use.” 

He  can  so  correlate  the  diverse  and  multitudinous  facts 
of  earth’s  history,  that  the  gracious  answer  to  prayer 
in  a single  case  shall  affect  not  the  recipient  alone, 
but  thousands  of  his  fellow  men — nay,  all,  it  may  be. 
Like  the  little  pebble  cast  into  the  lake,  it  may  send 
circling  waves  of  influence  to  the  farthest  shore  of 
being.  As  in  the  material  world,  according  to  the 
fancy  of  some,  the  vibrations  caused  by  the  human 
voice  never  cease,  so,  in  a spiritual  sense,  the  atmos- 
phere about  us  may  be  stirred,  at  this  very  moment, 
by  utterances  of  supplication  from  the  earliest  ages. 

We  may  well  pause  and  ask  here,  however — 
especially  in  view  of  the  recent  questionings  of  sci- 
ence— whether,  as  touching  the  power  of  prayer, 
there  is  no  qualification  or  limitation.  May  we  hope 
to  receive,  literally  and  exactly,  whatever  we  ask? 
An  inquiry  this  of  great  moment,  as  it  stands  related 
to  fanaticism  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  skepticism  on 


9 


the  other.  Our  reply  to  it  will  be  brief,  but  frank 
and  exhaustive.  We  shall  contemplate  therein  not 
miraculous  interferences,  such  as  pertained,  for  im- 
portant purposes,  to  bygone  ages,  but  such  answers 
to  prayer  as  may  be  looked  for  now.  And  we  shall 
take  for  our  guide,  as  the  only  final  authority,  the 
Word  of  God. 

Prayer,  to  be  prevalent,  we  say,  then,  in  the  first 
place,  must  be  uttered  in  faith.  “He  that  cometh  to 
God,  must  believe  that  he  is,  and  that  he  is  a reward- 
er of  them  that  diligently  seek  him.”  Where  Christ 
is  known,  to  say  the  least,  and  not  to  touch  on  the 
possibilities  of  heathendom,  he  must  be  believed  in ; 
for  “ he  that  honoreth  not  the  Son,  honoreth  not  the 
Father  which  hath  sent  him.”  We  must  pray,  too,  in 
Christ’s  name — virtually,  if  not  formally  ; for  he  is 
the  “one  Mediator  between  God  and  men.”  “No 
man,”  he  says,  “ cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by  me.” 
Praying  thus,  we  say,  in  the  second  place,  whatever 
is  particularly  and  positively  promised,  we  shall  surely 
receive.  As,  in  the  case  of  an  earthly  father,  there 
may  be  some  requests  concerning  which  he  has  given 
unequivocal  pre-intimations,  so  that  they  may  be 
uttered  with  no  shadow  of  uncertainty,  so  is  it  with 
our  Heavenly  Father.  He  has  promised  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  those  who  ask  him  ; he  has  promised  wis- 
dom, also,  and  other  particular  spiritual  blessings. 
He  has  promised  that  he  will  give  to  his  Son  the 


10 


heathen  for  his  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts 
of  the  earth  for  his  possession.  He  has  not,  indeed, 
indicated  the  ways  and  forms  in  which  these  blessings 
shall  come  ; a the  times”  and  “ the  seasons”  he  “ hath 
put  in  his  own  power.”  But  that  prayer  will  secure 
them,  he  has  pledged  his  word — more  abiding  than 
the  earth  on  which  we  tread,  or  the  heavens  that 
bend  over  us.  As  to  things  not  particularly  promised, 
of  which  the  number  is  vast,  we  have  only  to  cast 
ourselves  on  his  general  benignity.  We  may  well 
be  encouraged  by  it,  written  as  it  is  all  over  the  uni- 
verse, illustrated  as  it  is  on  every  page  of  the  Bible. 
Yet  “we  are  but  of  yesterday,  and  know  nothing.” 
What  we  ask  in  our  blindness,  we  might  depre- 
cate as  granted.  Well  says  the  great  dramatist : 

“ We,  ignorant  of  ourselves, 

Beg  often  our  own  harms,  which  the  wise  powers 
Deny  us  for  our  good ; so  find  we  profit 
By  losing  of  our  prayers.” 

Where  no  specific  promise  guides  us,  while  we  have 
the  priceless  privilege  of  spreading  all  our  wants  be- 
fore God,  we  have  only  to  leave  them  all  with  him, 
saying,  with  our  Great  Examplar,  even  in  the  Geth- 
semanes  of  our  history,  “ Not  my  will,  but  thine  be 
done.”  To  all  this  I must  add,  that  prayer  is  a power 
only  as  all  appropriate  means  are  used.  The  fable 
of  Hercules  and  the  wagoner  does  but  adumbrate 
Christian  truth.  God  honors  as  truly,  though  not  in 


11 


precisely  the  same  way,  his  natural  as  his  moral  laws. 
It  is  for  our  weal  that  the  activities  required  by  them 
should  be  ever  kept  in  play.  Even  in  the  case  of 
miracles,  what  stress  has  been  laid  on  human  instru- 
mentality. The  rod  of  Moses  must  be  stretched 
forth ; the  rock  must  be  smitten ; Jericho  must  be 
compassed ; Elijah  must  stretch  himself  upon  the 
dead  child.  In  the  wonders  wrought  by  our  Lord, 
though  the  potency  inhered  in  his  mere  word,  how 
often  is  the  use  of  means  commended  to  us.  He 
touches  the  eyes  that  are  to  be  opened,  or  he  anoints 
them  with  clay.  He  puts  his  fingers  into  the  ears 
that  are  to  be  unstopped ; he  touches  the  tongue 
that  is  to  be  unloosed,  and  the  leper  that  is  to  be 
cleansed.  To  complete  his  cure,  the  blind  man  must 
wash  in  the  pool  of  Siioam.  Much  more  are  means 
to  be  used  when  they  are  not  symbols  merely,  but 
veritable  second  causes.  The  spirit  of  prayer  is  the 
spirit,  also,  of  accordant  action.  He  who  prays  only, 
neglecting  appropriate  instrumentalities,  is  either  a 
fanatic,  mistaking  God’s  methods,  or  a pretender,  rest- 
ing in  the  mere  verbiage  of  supplication. 

Keeping  in  view  the  qualifications  and  limitations 
thus  succinctly  specified,  we  are  prepared  now  to 
aver,  that  real  prayer  is  always  answered  in  some 
way.  It  is,  in  other  words,  always  a power  with  God. 
So  is  it,  as  we  have  said,  when  we  have  a specific 
promise  to  plead.  So,  too,  when  we  cast  ourselves, 


12 


simply,  on  the  divine  Fatherhood.  If  we  ask  him  for 
bread,  he  will  not  give  us  a stone.  It  may  not  be 
the  bread,  either  in  substance  or  in  shape,  that  our 
fond  fancy  has  conceived ; that,  he  may  see,  will  not 
be  best  for  us.  It  may  not  be,  to  his  all-discerning 
eye,  our  fittest  soul-food ; it  would  harm,  on  the 
whole,  instead  of  helping  us.  And  so  he  may  deny 
it,  that  he  may  give  us  something  better.  Just  as  an 
earthly  father  might  withhold  from  his  little  child  the 
edge-tool  that  would  be  perilous,  or  the  viand  that 
would  work  evil,  only  that  he  may  show  his  love  by 
some  wiser  gift.  In  this  view,  we  judge,  we  have  a 
key  to  all  those  passages,  save  only  such  as  relate  to 
miracles,  which  assure  us  that  faith  will  secure  what- 
ever it  asks.  Faith  never  dictates.  Faith  asks  sub- 
missively. Faith  means  always,  “ This,  if  it  please 
thee  ; or  something  else,  if,  in  thy  sight,  that  is  better. 
Give  me,  for  my  seeming  needs,  if  it  may  be  so,  the 
meat  which  perisheth ; but  give  me,  at  least,  that 
meat  ‘ which  endure th  unto  everlasting  life.’”  Faith 
regards  all  temporal  good  as  but  the  shadow  of  the 
spiritual  and  the  eternal ; and  it  deems  its  prayer  for 
the  former  answered,  if,  instead  thereof,  the  latter  is 
granted.  Even  spiritual  blessings  come  to  the  sup- 
pliant often  in  disguise.  They  may  be  as  God’s  good 
angels  about  him,  while  he  detects  not  their  footfall 
or  the  rustle  of  their  wings.  They  may  be  within 
the  heart’s  portal,  when  there  seems  for  the  moment 


13 


to  be  but  loneliness  there.  Beautifully  is  this  set 
forth  by  an  oriental  poet, — albeit  of  another  faith  than 
ours  : 

‘ ‘ Allah  ! was  all  night  long  the  cry  of  one  oppressed  with  care, 

Till  softened  was  his  heart,  and  sweet  became  his  lips  with  prayer. 
Then  near  the  subtle  tempter  stole,  and  spake,  Fond  babbler,  cease,  . 
For  not  one  Here  am  I has  God  e’er  sent  to  give  thee  peace. 

With  sorrow  sank  the  suppliant’s  heart,  and  all  his  senses  fled  ; 

But  at  night’s  noon,  Elias  came,  and  gently  spake  and  said, 

What  ails  thee  now,  my  child,  and  whence  art  thou  afraid  to  pray, 
And  why  thy  former  love  dost  thou  repent  ? Declare  and  say. 

Ah  ! cries  he,  Never  once  to  me  spake  God,  Here  am  /,  son  ! 

Cast  off,  methinks  I am,  and  warned  far  from  his  gracious  throne. 

To  whom  Elias,  Hear,  my  son  ! the  word  from  God  I bear ; 

Go  tell,  he  said,  yon  mourner,  sunk  in  sorrow  and  despair, 

Each  Lord ',  appear , thy  lips  pronounce,  contains  my  Here  am  I ; 

A special  messenger  I send  beneath  thine  every  sigh. 

Thy  love  is  but  a girdle  of  the  love  I bear  to  thee, 

And  sleeping  in  thy  Come , 0 Lord , there  lies  Here,  son , from  me.” 

It  is  in  place  here,  and  will  meet  the  demands  of 
our  subject,  to  glance  at  the  views  of  one  of  the 
most  eminent  of  our  modern  scientists.  I refer  to 
Professor  John  Tyndall.  I utter  his  name — as  it  sug- 
gests his  own  remarkable  history,  and  as  it  stands 
related  to  the  progress  of  human  knowledge — with  a 
feeling  of  profound  admiration.  A man  who,  with  a 
diligence  that  never  tires,  a will  that  quails  not  before 
the  most  appalling  obstacles,  a keenness  of  insight 
that  stops  not  short  of  the  deepest  mysteries  of 
nature,  has  made  his  way  from  obscurity  to  his  present 
proud  position  • a man  whose  genius  has  illumined  so 
broad  and  diversified  a field  of  science,  reaching  from 


14 


the  cold  glaciers  of  the  Alps,  through  cloud  and  rain 
and  river  and  rivulet,  down  to  fhe  central  fires — yea, 
to  the  innermost  secret  of  those  fires ; is  worthy  to 
be  heard  with  respectful  consideration.  Chistian 
charity  would  fain  have  for  him  no  scornful  words.  It 
would  ill  comport  with  his  own  emphatic  utterances 
to  deem  him  an  atheist;  we  are  slow  even  to  pro- 
nounce him  an  infidel.  We  are  willing  to  believe 
that  he  has  been  too  severely  judged  by  many.  He 
discards  not  prayer ; he  thinks  " not  otherwise  than 
solemnly,”  he  declares,  “ of  the  feeling  that  prompts 
it.”  He  denies  not  even — after  the  puerile  fashion  of 
the  Westminster  Review  and  its  coadjutors — the  pos- 
sibility of  miracles.  “ There  is  no  inherent  unreason- 
ableness,” he  says,  “in  the  act  of  prayer” — in  that 
act,  he  means,  as  it  respects  even  the  physical  sphere. 
66  The  theory,”  he  adds,  “ that  the  system  of  nature  is 
under  the  control  of  a Being  who  changes  phenom- 
ena in  compliance  with  the  prayers  of  men,  is,  in  my 
opinion,  a perfectly  legitimate  one.”  He  only  asks 
that  this  theory  be  verified ; and  it  is  in  relation, 
almost  solely,  to  the  test  he  proposes,  that  we  take 
exception  to  his  views. 

He  errs,  we  say  in  the  first  place,  when  he  repre- 
sents us  as  holding  that  prayer  is,  in  certain  relations, 
“a  form  of  physical  energy.”  We  hold  no  such  thing. 
We  never  identify  it  with  a law  of  nature;  we  regard 
it  rather  as  a purely  spiritual  force,  issuing  from  the 


15 


depths  of  the  free  spirit  in  man,  and  reaching  and 
moving  the  Infinite  Spirit.  Mr.  Tyndall  seems,  in- 
deed, to  be  not  quite  sure  of  his  own  statement;  for 
he  adds,  “ or  as  the  equivalent  of  such  energy.”  Be 
it  so,  in  some  sense.  Admit  that  in  some  cases,  like 
results  come  of  both.  Are  equivalents  in  this  regard 
always  identical  ? Do  they  belong  to  the  same  cate- 
gory? Are  they  subject  to  the  same  laws?  A kind 
word  may  soothe  as  well  as  an  anodyne,  but  is  it 
framed,  therefore,  by  the  pharmacopoeia  ? A sermon 
may  induce  sleep  as  well  as  the  juice  of  the  poppy, 
but  would  you  test  it,  therefore,  by  the  chemist’s  re- 
agents ? A physical  force  is,  ex  vi  termini , in  nature — 
part  and  parcel  of  it ; prayer  and  the  divine  power  it 
invokes, — in  other  words,  the  power  of  prayer, — is 
without  and  above  nature.  Nature  is  affected  by  both, 
but  what  folly  to  confound  them.  Prayer  is  no  more 
“ a form  of  physical  energy  ” than  is  the  cry  of  a 
suffering  child,  or  the  pity  it  awakens  in  a father’s 
heart. 

Erring  at  this  point,  it  is  not  strange  that  he  errs 
as  touching  the  test  of  prayer.  How  inept  and  im- 
possible, clearly,  is  the  verification  he  proposes.  This 
is  evident  from  the  nature  and  conditions,  as  we  have 
stated  them,  of  all  prevalent  supplication.  It  is  to  be 
offered  in  faith ; but  in  what  laboratory  of  man — by 
what  analysis,  either  of  science  or  philosophy— is  that 
to  be  surely  detected  ? The  power  must  be  present, 


16 


of  course,  or  you  have  no  right  to  count  on  the  effect. 
To  ordinary  prayer  for  physical  benefits,  we  look  in 
vain,  moreover,  for  specific  promises.  They  are  all  of 
a general  character.  We  commit  our  case,  as  we  have 
said,  to  the  infinite  benignity  of  our  Heavenly  Father, 
and  to  his  unerring  wisdom.  But  who  can  say,  with 
certainty,  what  will  be  best  for  us,  or  what  he  can  con- 
sistently do  ? “Who,  by  searching,  can  find  out  God  ?” 
That  various  forms  of  natural  good,  such  as  rain  from 
heaven  and  the  restoration  of  health,  are  sometimes 
granted  in  answer  to  our  petitions,  we  have  reason, 
both  on  experimental  and  historical  grounds,  to  be- 
lieve ; and  what  is  more,  this  belief  is  warranted  by 
the  infallible  word  of  God.  In  that  we  rest.  But 
that  prayer,  in  particular  instances,  may  be  subjected 
to  some  crucial  test — as  if  the  mere  form  of  words 
were  of  itself  a power,  working  like  the  forces  of 
nature,  certainly,  constantly,  and  invariably — is  so 
near  to  an  absurdity,  that  we  cannot  but  wonder  at 
its  finding  a lodgment  in  a brain  like  Mr.  Tyndall’s. 

We  have  doubters,  however,  respecting  the  power 
of  prayer,  as  we  intimated  at  the  outset,  of  a very 
different  character.  Their  difficulties  are  of  a deeper 
and  broader  sort.  They  plant  themselves  on  the  im- 
mutability of  nature,  so  far  as  her  essential  laws  and 
ongoings  are  concerned.  Law  reigns,  they  tell  us,  in 
all  the  material  creation,  and  law  is  uniform.  It 
brooks  not  interference.  Its  maintenance  is  essential 


17 


to  the  harmony  of  the  universe — nay,  to  its  stability. 
If  it  is  liable  to  be  disturbed,  at  one  point  and  another, 
by  varying  modes  and  measures  of  spiritual  influence, 
not  only  may  the  equilibrium  of  things  be  destroyed, 
the  whole  system  may  topple  into  confusion.  What- 
ever link  prayer  may  strike  from  the  chain  of  causa- 
tion, “ tenth  or  ten  thousandth, breaks  the  chain  alike” 
While  confidence  in  the  future  is  lost,  the  stimulus  to 
present  action  is  weakened.  Nay,  as  the  mind  and 
heart  of  God  are  affected,  even  his  immutability  is 
brought  into  question. 

Such,  in  its  length  and  breadth,  is  the  case  against 
us.  We  might  meet  it,  if  we  chose,  on  the  simple 
ground  of  faith.  If  we  could  frame  not  the  slightest 
conjecture  as  to  the  way  in  which  the  reign  of  law 
and  the  prevalence  of  prayer  could  be  reconciled,  the 
unchangeableness  of  God  and  his  readiness  to  hear 
his  children,  yet  on  his  testimony  we  should  be  sure 
that  they  could  be  reconciled.  I would  not  say  with 
the  old  divine,  “ Credo,  quia  impossibile ; ” but  I 
would  say,  I believe  because  God  hath  spoken.  Like 
the  little  child,  who  paused  in  his  evening  devotions, 
as  his  eyelids  grew  heavy  with  sleep,  and  faintly  mur- 
mured, “ God  knows  the  rest,”  so  would  I say,  at  the 
end  of  all  my  own  poor  wisdom.  Yet  we  are  not 
straitened  as  to  arguments  wherewith  to  vindicate  the 
ways  and  the  utterances  of  the  Most  High. 

As  to  the  difficulties  growing  out  of  the  reign  of 


18 


law,  they  pertain  no  more,  be  it  observed,  to  the  ma- 
terial than  to  the  spiritual  sphere.  For  hath  not 
mind  its  laws  as  well  as  matter  ? The  law  of  liberty 
in  the  soul,  indeed,  or  the  freedom  of  the  will*  would 
seem  to  present  a special  difficulty.  The  objection  in 
hand,  pressed  to  its  full  issue,  would  leave  no  place 
for  prayer — a result  avowedly  contemplated  by  some 
who  urge  it.  I may  say  further,  that  as  to  the  appre- 
hended derangement  of  nature  by  the  interposition 
of  a divine  force,  our  fears  may  well  be  allayed  by 
the  fact  that  we  have  the  analogue  of  that  interposi- 
tion, as  Mr.  Tyndall  admits,  in  “ the  ordinary  action 
of  man  upon  earth.”  If  his  free  will  may  enter 
harmlessly,  and  as  a distinct  but  real  efficiency,  into 
the  complicated  tissue  of  physical  causation,  why 
may  not  God’s  ? And  as  to  the  doctrine  of  the  divine 
immutability,  it  is  put  in  no  peril.  We  essay  not  the 
metaphysics  of  God’s  nature.  That  there  is  to  him, 
as  divines  have  said,  “ one  eternal  now,”  is  doubtless 
in  some  sense  true.  Yet  there  is  a sense,  that  to 
which,  from  the  limitations  of  our  being,  we  must  be 
mainly  confined,  in  which  there  is  succession  with 
him — succession  of  thoughts,  feelings,  and  deeds. 
Changeless  in  his  essence  and  attributes,  and  so  in 
the  principles  of  his  government,  he  yet  varies,  as 
occasions  arise,  in  the  application  of  those  principles. 
Yesterday  we  sinned,  and  he  frowned  upon  us; 
to-day  we  are  penitent,  and  we  share  his  smile.  Yes- 


19 


terday  we  were  prayerless,  and  he  withheld  priceless 
blessings ; to-day  we  kneel  in  suppliance,  and  from 
a father’s  yearning  heart  those  blessings  come  down. 
It  is  only  thus  he  is  true  to  himself,  and  so,  in  the 
best  sense,  the  unchangeable  God. 

With  these  preliminary  remarks,  we  pass  to  the 
two  main  theories,  by  either  or  both  of  which,  it  is 
believed,  the  power  of  prayer  may  be  reconciled  with 
the  essential  stability  of  nature.  The  first  has  been 
called  the  theory  of  preestablished  harmony.  It  is  so 
called  because  it  recognizes  the  predetermined  con- 
currence of  prayer  and  the  need  it  meets.  A cer- 
tain exigency,  and  the  cry  for  help  it  elicits,  are 
foreseen  by  God ; waiving  all  speculation  about  an 
eternal  present,  they  were  foreseen — or  foreordained, 
if  you  please  so  to  say — before  the  world  was.  And 
the  aid  implored  is  also  foreordained — not  as  a mira- 
cle, but  as  the  resultant  of  undisturbed  natural  forces. 
A line  of  causation  is  established,  natural  causation, 
running  through  the  ages,  and  so  timed  and  adjusted 
that  it  brings  to  the  suppliant,  in  his  extremity,  just 
the  blessing  he  asks.  At  the  beginning  of  Daniel’s 
supplication  66  the  commandment  went  forth,”  and  the 
angel  Gabriel,  “ being  caused  to  fly  swiftly,”  touched 
him  before  it  was  ended.  At  an  earlier  command- 
ment, in  the  view  we  now  present,  and  over  a longer 
track,  God’s  messenger  comes,  but  with  a concurrence 
not  less  exact  and  felicitous.  Is  this  harder  for  God, 


20 


think  you,  than  for  the  cunning  weaver  so  to  dispose 
the  threads  of  his  variegated  web  that  they  shall 
cross  each  other  at  precisely  the  right  points,  each 
making  its  contribution  to  the  preconceived  figure  ? 
There  is,  according  to  this  theory,  no  suspension  of 
law,  no  modification  of  it.  It  reigns  as  ever  • and  yet 
God  reigns,  and  graciously  answers  prayer. 

It  happened,  not  long  ago,  that  on  one  of  the  rail- 
roads of  New  England,  a road  with  a single  track, 
two  trains  had  started  in  opposite  directions ; and 
they  had  started  at  such  times,  the  superintendent 
learned,  that  unless  they  were  arrested  a collision  was 
inevitable.  But  there  was  no  way  of  arresting  them. 
They  had  both  left  the  only  telegraph  stations  avail- 
able. As  the  sole  remaining  resource,  the  superintend- 
ent telegraphed  to  one  of  those  stations,  directing  that 
a swift  car  be  dispatched  immediately — a car  which  he 
was  assured  would  reach  the  point  of  collision  at  just 
the  time  when,  under  the  pressure  of  the  foreseen 
calamity,  the  cry  for  help  would  be  heard.  In  this 
predetermined  concurrence,  we  have  an  imperfect 
illustration  of  what  we  may  conceive  to  be  God’s  way 
of  answering  prayer. 

There  is  a second  theory,  however,  which  owes  its 
most  brilliant  exposition  to  the  genius  of  Chalmers. 
I may  call  it  the  theory  of  occult  influence.  It  em- 
braces no  miracle,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term ; 
for  a miracle  is  not  only  “ an  effect  in  nature  above 


21 


nature/’  it  is  a sensible  effect.  It  is  something  which, 
perceived,  becomes  a wonder.  Nor  does  it  contemplate, 
strictly  speaking,  a suspension  of  the  physical  forces — 
not  even  an  apprehensible  counteraction  or  modifica- 
tion of  them.  “Prayer,”  says  Chalmers,  “may  obtain 
its  fulfilment  without  any  visible  reversal  of  the  con- 
stancies of  nature,  provided  its  first  effect  is  upon 
some  latent  and  interior  spring  of  the  mechanism,  and 
not  among  its  palpable  evolutions.  Let  but  the  touch 
of  communication  between  the  Deity  and  his  works, 
when  he  goes  forth  to  meet  the  desire  of  any  of  his 
creatures,  be  behind  or  underneath  that  surface  which 
marks  and  measures  off  the  farthest  verge  of  man’s 
possible  discovery — and  then  may  there  be  many  a 
special  request  which  receives  as  special  an  accom- 
plishment, yet  without  disturbance  to  those  wonted 
successions  which  either  the  eye  of  man  or  his  nicest 
instruments  of  observation  shall  enable  him  to  ascer- 
tain.” And  he  goes  on  to  illustrate  this  view  with 
reference  to  prayer  for  a prosperous  voyage  or  for  an 
abundant  harvest,  answered,  possibly,  by  some  divine 
touch,  far  down  in  the  unsounded  and  unsoundable 
depths  of  meteorology ; and  to  prayer  for  the  recov- 
ery of  health,  responded  to,  not  by  any  derangement 
of  the  visible  ongoing  of  nature,  but  by  some  occult 
influence  in  the  unexplored  recesses  of  the  animal 
economy.  “ It  is  thence,”  he  says,  “ God  may  answer 
prayer ; and  however  proud  science  shall  despise  the 


22 


affirmation,  there  is  nought  in  all  the  laws  and  se- 
quences that  she  has  ever  ascertained,  by  which  she 
can  disprove  it.” 

I met  lately  with  an  illustration  of  this  view — given 
as  such  by  an  eminent  divine — drawn  from  a familiar 
department  of  human  mechanism.  In  one  of  the  in- 
land cities  of  New  York,  beside  the  river  on  which  it 
is  built,  there  is  a steam  engine  in  a small  building,  by 
means  of  which,  as  it  is  kept  going  day  and  night,  the 
inhabitants  are  supplied  with  water.  The  machinery 
is  so  arranged  that  the  demand  of  the  town  acts  ordi- 
narily as  a governor,  the  engine  moving  with  greater 
or  less  rapidity,  according  as  the  water  is  taken  off  in 
greater  or  less  measure.  But  there  is  a special  provi- 
sion, a reserved  force,  for  a special  exigency.  When 
a fire  occurs,  by  means  of  wires  accessible  from  with- 
out, an  alarm  bell  rings  in  the  engine-room ; and  the 
engineer,  unseen  by  the  people  of  the  imperilled  city, 
and  by  methods  which  they,  probably,  would  but  im- 
perfectly understand,  gears  on  some  curious  extra 
machinery,  by  means  of  which  the  mains  are  charged 
to  their  fullest  capacity,  and  such  an  amount  of  pres- 
sure is  brought  to  bear  upon  them,  that  the  water  is 
sent  to  the  tops  of  the  loftiest  buildings.  We  have 
here,  in  the  leading  particulars — we  say  not  in  all — a 
shadowing  forth  of  the  theory  in  hand.  In  the  ordi- 
nary machinery — in  the  larger  and  smaller  pipes,  in 
faucet  and  hose,  and  in  the  maintenance  of  the  gen- 


23 


eral  law,  supply  answering  to  demand — we  have  an 
illustration  of  the  visible  constancies  and  regularities 
of  nature.  In  the  tinkling  of  the  bell,  as,  rung  by 
some  faithful  watcher,  it  falls  on  a single  ear,  we  have 
the  voice  of  prayer.  In  the  heart  and  the  hand  that 
respond,  and  the  interposing  force,  unseen  but  effec- 
tive, we  have  the  Infinite  Architect  and  Engineer 
answering,  out  of  the  veiled  recesses  of  the  physical 
sphere,  the  cry  of  the  earnest  suppliant. 

What  is  so  clearly  possible  in  the  material  world 
is  even  more  conceivable  in  the  world  of  mind.  By 
facts,  experienced  or  observed,  its  likelihood,  to  say 
the  least,  is  often  suggested.  It  is  related  of  an 
eminent  naval  officer,  that,  as  the  vessel  he  com- 
manded was  once  crossing  the  ocean,  its  course 
brought  him  in  sight  of  the  Island  of  Ascension,  an 
island  at  that  time  uninhabited,  and  seldom  visited 
by  any  ship.  It  met  his  eye  but  as  a speck  on  the 
horizon  ; yet,  strange  to  say,  he  was  seized  with  a 
strong  desire  to  move  towards  it.  He  knew  how 
singular  such  a wish  would  appear  to  his  crew,  and 
he  struggled  against  it ; but  it  grew  more  and  more 
intense,  and,  as  they  were  fast  leaving  the  island 
behind  them,  he  ordered  his  lieutenant  to  prepare 
to  “put  about  ship”  and  steer  for  Ascension.  The 
lieutenant  ventured  respectfully  to  remonstrate.  He 
urged  the  loss  of  time  a change  in  their  course  would 
occasion ; and,  as  the  men  were  just  then  engaged, 


24 


he  pleaded  for,  at  least,  a little  delay.  His  argu- 
ments, however,  availed  nothing ; they  rather  in- 
creased the  desire  that  had  mastered  the  captain, 
and  he  gave,  at  once,  the  word  of  command.  Though 
in  the  faces  of  all  the  officers  there  was  an  expression 
of  wonder  and  even  of  blame,  the  order  was  obeyed, 
and  the  prow  was  turned  towards  the  uninteresting 
little  island.  All  eyes  and  glasses  were  immediately 
fixed  upon  it,  and  soon  something  of  an  unusual  sort 
was  perceived  upon  the  shore.  "It  is  white — it  is  a 
flag  — it  must  be  a signal ! ” were  the  cries  which 
broke  at  intervals  from  the  excited  crew.  As  they 
neared  the  land,  a touching  spectacle  met  their  view. 
They  found  that  sixteen  men,  wrecked  on  that  coast 
many  days  before,  and  suffering  the  extremity  of 
hunger,  had  set  up  the  observed  signal,  though 
almost  without  hope  of  relief.  They  were  taken  on 
board,  and  the  ship  that  had  come  thus  as  God’s 
ministering  angel,  went  on  its  way. 

That  cries  to  heaven  for  help  had  risen  from 
some  of  those  shipwrecked  men,  is,  to  say  the 
least,  highly  probable,  and  that  prayers  had  been 
offered  for  them  by  devout  friends  at  home.  Is  it 
irrational  to  say  that  those  prayers  were  answered  ? 
It  may  have  been  in  the  first  of  the  methods  we 
have  indicated.  There  may  have  been  only  the 
operation  of  natural  causes,  the  chain  thereof  reach- 
ing down  from  the  eternal  purpose  to  the  moment 


25 


of  need.  That  remarkable  desire  of  the  captain  may 
have  come  of  the  normal  workings  of  mind  and 
heart ; the  reign  of  law  in  both  may  have  been  un- 
broken, unmodified,  unsupplemented.  We  know  too 
little  of  the  mysteries  of  thought  and  feeling  to 
aver  the  contrary.  Yet  this  very  ignorance  favors 
rather  than  forbids  the  theory  we  are  now  consider- 
ing. How  very  possible  is  it  - — according  to  the 
seeming  of  the  case,  as  it  would  strike  most  minds — 
that,  far  down  in  the  arcana  of  the  soul,  there  was 
some  special  pressure  of  the  divine  finger,  reaching 
we  know  not  what  cell  of  memory,  stirring  we  say 
not  what  wing  of  fancy,  thrilling  we  aver  not  what 
chords  of  association,  opening  we  affirm  not  what 
founts  of  feeling, — yet  giving  such  ultimate  direction 
to  the  will,  as  wrought  salvation  for  the  perishing 
ones.  God  is  not  straitened  as  touching  his  access 
to  the  mind,  or  his  secret  operations  there.  He  has 
glorious  options  as  to  his  way  of  working.  And 
apart  from  all  arrogant  and  presumptuous  dogmatism, 
and  without  discarding  the  great  stabilities  of  nature, 
it  is  not  difficult  to  show  how,  as  touching  both  the 
physical  and  the  spiritual,  prayer  may  be  a power 
with  him. 

We  pass  now,  in  the  second  place,  to  contemplate 
prayer,  according  to  the  suggestion  of  the  text,  as  a 
power  with  men . In  view  of  what  has  been  said  under 
the  first  head,  no  amplitude  of  argument  or  illustra- 


26 


tion  is  needed  here.  That  which  moves  the  hand 
that  moves  the  universe  must  needs  have  power  in 
inferior  directions.  It  gives  to  the  suppliant,  we  may 
say,  first,  power  with  other  mm.  This,  both  as  it  exerts 
a certain  direct  influence,  and  as  it  secures,  in  various 
forms,  divine  aid.  It  has  been  beautifully  said,  “ The 
nearest  way  to  any  human  heart  is  round  by  heaven.” 
So  was  it  in  the  case  of  Jacob.  There  was  an  influ- 
ence from  above,  we  may  presume,  upon  the  mind  of 
his  exasperated  brother — “ harder  to  be  won,”  it  had 
seemed,  66  than  the  bars  of  a castle.”  There  was  a 
wisdom  of  precaution  and  of  conciliation  on  the  patri- 
arch’s part — there  was  a power  of  suasion  in  word 
and  look — born,  we  cannot  doubt,  of  that  night  of 
wrestling.  You  remember  the  famous  saying  of 
Queen  Mary,  that  she  feared  the  prayers  of  John 
Knox  more  than  a host  of  armed  men.  She  had 
many  reasons  for  fearing.  Not  only  is  God  with  a 
praying  man,  his  omniscience  and  omnipotence  work 
ing  for  him, — he  is  himself  a power.  He  is  Virgil’s 
good  man  before  the  “ignobile  vulgus,”  only  on  a 
higher  plane  and  a broader  scale.  His  face  shines  as 
did  that  of  Moses.  Like  Stephen’s,  it  is  as  “ the  face 
of  an  angel  • ” and  his  words  come  to  men  with  more 
than  angelic  authority — it  is  as  if  God  were  working 
and  speaking  through  him. 

There  is  involved  in  all  this,  moreover,  what  may  be 
called  the  reflex  influence  of  prayer.  If  it  be  real 


27 


prayer,  from  a believing  heart  and  an  earnest  pur- 
pose, it  is  mightily  retroactive ; it  is  a power  with  the 
suppliant's  own  soul , and  so,  as  has  been  intimated,  a 
greater  outgoing  force.  Here,  as  in  other  relations, 
we  “give  out  ourselves,  ourselves  take  back  again.” 
Nay,  we  take  back  with  an  increment.  There  are 
potent  echoes  of  our  supplication ; it  resounds  from 
the  heavenly  hills,  with  a sweet  and  sanctifying  influ- 
ence, through  the  innermost  recesses  of  our  being. 
We  draw  near  to  God;  we  commune  with  infinite 
excellence  ; and  so,  by  a law  of  our  spiritual  nature,  we 
receive  a transforming  and  elevating  influence.  We 
grow  into  the  likeness  of  the  object  we  contemplate. 
Even  the  intellectual  being  is  exalted.  “An  hour  of 
solitude,”  says  Mr.  Coleridge,  “passed  in  sincere  and 
earnest  prayer,  or  the  conflict  with  and  conquest  over 
a single  passion,  or  ‘ subtle  bosom  sin/  will  teach  us 
more  of  thought,  will  more  effectually  awaken  the 
faculty  and  form  the  habit  of  reflection,  than  a year’s 
study  in  the  schools  without  them.”  Hence  the  old 
maxim,  “ Bene  orasse,  est  bene  studuisse .”  It  is  related 
of  a student  here,  in  years  long  gone  by — a man  as 
distinguished  for  diligence  and  success  in  scholarly 
pursuits  as  for  fidelity  in  his  religious  duties,  that  he 
was  observed,  one  morning,  to  make  a strangely  im- 
perfect recitation.  “ Pray,  how  did  it  happen  ? ” said  a 
friend.  “To  tell  you  the  truth,”  was  his  answer,  “ I 
had  neglected  my  morning  devotions.”  There  was  a 


28 


sound  philosophy  in  that  reply.  There  is  not  a men- 
tal faculty  to  which  prayer  gives  not  a quickening 
touch.  For  it  is  the  voice  of  faith,  as  we  have  seen  ; 
and  it  is  well  said  by  the  profound  writer  just  quoted, 
“Never  yet  did  there  exist  a full  faith  in  the  Divine 
Word,  (by  whom  light , as  well  as  immortality,  was 
brought  into  the  world,)  which  did  not  expand  the 
intellect  while  it  purified  the  heart;  which  did  not 
multiply  the  aims  and  objects  of  the  understand- 
ing, while  it  fixed  and  simplified  those  of  the  desires 
and  passions”  Prayer  helps  the  memory  even.  It 
gives  keenness  to  perception,  and  balance  to  the  judg- 
ment, and  a loftier  flight  to  the  imagination.  It 
imparts  a serene  and  commanding  self-possession. 
And,  what  is  more,  there  is  not  a Christian  grace,  be 
it  love,  joy,  peace,  gentleness,  meekness,  or  holy  bold- 
ness, over  which  the  breath  of  supplication  comes  not 
as  that  of  spring  over  the  nascent  buds  and  flowers : 


“ Lord,  what  a change  within  us  one  short  hour 
Spent  in  thy  presence  will  avail  to  make ! 

What  heavy  burdens  from  our  bosoms  take ! 

What  parched  grounds  refresh  as  with  a shower ! 

We  kneel,  and  all  around  us  seems  to  lower  ; 

We  rise,  and  all,  the  distant  and  the  near, 

Stands  forth  in  sunny  outline,  brave  and  clear ; 

We  kneel,  how  weak!  We  rise,  how  full  of  power!  ” 


It  is  through  the  channel  of  prayer,  above  all  oth- 
ers, that  the  soul  is  “ filled  with  all  the  fulness  of 
God.” 


29 


Such  is  prayer  as  a power- — as  a power  with  God, 
with  our  fellow-men,  and  with  ourselves.  How  do  its 
achievements,  as  seen  in  the  light  of  our  subject, 
dwarf  all  others.  We  speak  of  the  marvels  of  mod- 
ern science,  and  we  render  due  praise  to  its  successful 
votaries.  But  whabgreater  wonders  are  here.  Prayer 
is  the  telegraphic  wire  that  stretches  beyond  the  stars. 
It  is  the  spectroscopic  power,  unfolding  to  us  the  mys- 
teries of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness.  It  is  the  mighty 
solvent,  that  melts  away  the  great  mountains  of  diffi- 
culty. It  is  the  divine  alchemy,  that  turns  the  baser 
metals  of  earthly  toil  and  care  and  sorrow  into  heav- 
en’s own  gold.  What  an  ineffable  dignity  does  it 
impart.  How  far  above  the  mere  kings  of  men  are 
those  who,  in  this  exalted  service,  are  “ kings  and 
priests  unto  God.”  No  loftier  plaudit  ever  fell  upon 
the  ears  of  a mortal  than  that  which  Jacob  heard,  as 
the  day  was  breaking  upon  him— that  plaudit  which 
heaven  grant  it  may  be  ours  to  hear— “As  a prince 
hast  thou  power  with  God  and  with  men,  and  hast 
prevailed.” 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating  Class: 

As  we  meet  you  in  these  Sabbath  solemnities  for 
the  last  time,  very  pleasant  to  us  are  the  memories  of 
your  college  course.  I speak  not  for  myself  alone, 
but  for  the  whole  circle  of  your  teachers.  And  very 
deep  is  the  interest  with  which  we  contemplate  your 


30 


future.  As  you  stand  now  on  the  verge  of  the  great 
field  of  action,  you  have  a new  sense  of  its  responsi- 
bilities, and  of  the  importance  of  ample  preparation 
for  them.  You  will  need  for  the  work  before  you  a 
various  equipment.  The  highest  mental  discipline 
will  be  called  for,  and  the  largest  possible  acquisition. 
You  will  welcome,  too,  all  fitting  opportunities,  facili- 
ties, and  helps.  But  our  chief  solicitude  is,  that  you 
may  have  the  best  spiritual  endowments ; that  under 
whatever  name  you  may  choose  to  serve  God — a 
matter,  you  will  bear  us  witness,  which  we  have  ever 
held  as  of  comparatively  little  moment — you  may  all 
be  men  of  prayer.  So,  in  the  highest  sense,  as  to  all 
the  great  interests,  both  of  time  and  eternity,  you 
shall  be  men  of  power. 

There  are  tender  recollections  awakened  by  the 
scenes  of  to-day,  which  specially  commend  to  you 
this  high  attainment.  There  are  graves  which,  to 
your  open  ear,  are  eloquent  of  it.  You  think  of 
Huntley,  and  Bichardson,  and  Smith,  and  Foster,  and 
Clark — beloved  classmates,  with  you  but  as  yester- 
day, with  hearts  as  buoyant  and  promise  as  fair  as 
yours — now  numbered  with  the  dead  ! I seem  to 
hear  their  voices  from  the  spirit  land,  saying,  “ What- 
ever else  ye  fail  of,  be  men  of  prayer.”  While  yet 
the  dew  of  youth  is  upon  you,  you  may  need,  as 
they  did,  that  only  key  to  the  pearly  gate.  Should 
long  life  be  yours,  yet  as  cares  accumulate,  as  bur- 


31 


dens  press  upon  you,  as  fierce  conflicts  arise,  as 
sorrows  are  multiplied,  as  temptations  cluster  about 
you,  you  will  need,  to  your  latest  breath,  this  divine 
resource.  You  will  need  it  in  whatever  lowly  walk, 
and  on  whatever  shining  height.  I thank  God,  as  I 
speak,  for  the  example  of  one — that  honored  son  of 
Dartmouth,  mourned  of  late  by  the  whole  nation — 
whose  life  was  a noteworthy  illustration  of  the  theme 
before  us.  The  late  Chief  Justice  Chase,  I joy  to 
believe,  was  a man  of  prayer.  He  bowed  the  knee, 
we  are  told,  at  the  family  altar.  He  communed  with 
God,  we  doubt  not,  in  the  secret  place.  And  the 
normal  issue  of  that  communion  was  his  whole  grand 
career.  It  is  pleasant  to  remember,  that  it  was  in 
these  classic  halls,  as  we  have  reason  to  believe,  he 
began  his  life  of  devotion.  I was  affected  by  the 
statement,  as  I lately  read  it,  that,  for  many  hours 
of  the  week  preceding  his  decease,  he  employed  his 
colored  servant  in  reading  to  him  from  the  recently 
published  sermons  of  his  own  College  President,  the 
late  Dr.  Bennet  Tyler.  How,  as  page  after  page 
was  turned,  was  he  carried  back,  doubtless,  - to  the 
scenes  of  his  undergraduate  life.  He  was  a boy  again. 
He  was  within  these  walls  as  of  old.  His  classmates 
were  about  him.  The  preacher’s  noble  form  was 
before  him  ; and  the  living  voice,  so  especially  per- 
suasive then,  as  tradition  has  it,  to  a life  of  faith  and 
prayer,  was  sounding  again  in  his  ears  and  thrilling 


32 


his  heart.  What  fitness  was  there  and  what  surges- 
tiveness — what  a memento  of  the  power  he  had  wield- 
ed— in  the  presence  and  the  ministry  of  that  repre- 
sentative of  the  down-trodden  race  for  whom  it  had 
been  his  joy  to  dare  and  to  do.  And  how  are  we 
pointed  to  the  chief  source  of  that  power,  as  his  life 
of  prayer  comes  thus  to  its  natural  and  beautiful 
close.  What  a lesson  have  we  in  this  elder  brother, 
for  these  younger  sons  of  Dartmouth.  Be  ye  “ follow- 
ers of  them  who  through  faith  and  patience  inherit 
the  promises.”  Be  ye  men  of  prayer ; — and  so,  when 
the  last  of  earth  shall  come  to  you,  you  shall  leave 
blessed  memories  behind  you,  and  the  voice  of  sup- 
plication shall  pass  into  heaven’s  anthem  of  praise. 


\ 


I 


A POSITIVE  FAITH. 


A 


antalaureatq  Sermon, 


PREACHED  AT 


DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE, 


BY 


SAMUEL  COLCORD  BARTLETT, 

PRESIDENT  OF  THE  COLLEGE, 


JUNE  24th,  1883. 


HANOVER,  N.  H. 

PRINTED  AT  THE  DARTMOUTH  PRESS, 

1883. 


SERMON. 


2 Cor.  iv:  13.  “We  having  the  same  spirit  of  faith,  accord- 
ing AS  IT  IS  WRITTEN,  I BELIEVED,  AND  THEREFORE  HAVE 
I SPOKEN  ; WE  ALSO  BELIEVE,  AND  THEREFORE  SPEAK.” 

Here  are  two  voices,  but  one  sentiment.  “ It  is  written,” — 
in  the  Psalms.  It  is  repeated  in  the  epistle.  In  the  midst  of 
conscious  weakness  and  well-nigh  universal  treachery,  the  sweet 
singer  of  Israel,  centuries  before,  had  stayed  himself  by  faith 
on  God  : “ I believed.”  And  now  the  great  apostle,  looking  out, 
backward  and  forward  and  around,  on  the  enormous  trials  and 
dangers  enveloping  his  whole  pathway,  rests  his  undaunted  hope 
and  courage  on  “ the  same  spirit  of  faith  ” in  God  : “ We 

also  believe.”  Two  dispensations  here  coalesce.  The  apostle 
and  the  psalmist  join  hands  across  the  ages,  and  together  they 
proclaim  in  our  ears  this  great  lesson  of  a cheerful  and  success- 
ful life, 

THE  DUTY,  THE  VALUE  AND  THE  POWER  OF  A POSITIVE  FAITH. 

The  distinction  between  a matter  of  science  and  a matter 
of  faith  has  been  stated  thus : the  one  is  a certitude  admitting 
of  verification,  the  other  a certitude  not  admitting  of  verifica- 
tion,— although  both  rest  on  satisfactory  proof.  The  distinction 
may  be  admitted, — so  far  at  least  as  verification  to  another  is 
concerned.  It  is,  for  example,  a matter  of  science  that  the  dis- 
tance accomplished  by  a falling  body  varies  as  the  square  of  the 
time ; for  it  not  only  rests  on  evidence,  but  can  at  any  time  be 
tested.  So  with  the  physical  properties  of  a metal  or  a gas. 
But  it  is  matter  of  faith  that  God  intelligently  governs  the  uni- 
verse. For  though  the  evidence  seems  to  me  irrefragable,  I can 
not  verify  it,  at  least  to  another,  as  I can  the  law  of  falling  bodies. 
Again,  that  the  properties  ascribed  to  the  metal  and  the  gas  are 
actual  qualities  of  an  external  object,  and  not  modifications  of 
my  mind  or  senses,  is  matter  of  belief,  or  in  a broad  sense,  faith. 


4 


For  however  invincible  the  conviction  to  me,  I can  not  verify  it 
by  experiment  to  the  questioner.  In  its  most  general  sense, 
therefore,  faith  has  a wide  range, — from  the  trust  we  repose  in 
the  truthful  working  of  our  human  faculties  up  to  the  surrender 
of  mind  and  heart  to  the  claims  and  authority  of  Jesus  Christ. 
This  last  is  the  culmination  of  all  faith,  being  the  supreme  move- 
ment of  the  human  soul,  in  its  highest  humanity,  towards  the 
Supreme  object  of  the  Universe.  It  is  pre-eminently  Faith, 
Christian  Faith.  And  this  will  be  the  aim  and  goal  of  my  dis- 
cussion, while  yet  I do  not  exclude  from  thought  all  those  sub- 
ordinate exhibitions  of  belief,  which  lie  in  the  same  direction, 
though  in  a different  plane.  For  there  is  a believing  spirit,  ready 
to  find  and  receive  all  truth,  and  to  embrace  the  highest.  And 
there  is  a spirit  of  unbelief,  doubt,  cavil,  which  notably  grows 
with  the  greatness  of  the  theme. 

Now  the  world  is  so  adjusted  in  its  chief  arrangements  as’ 
to  make  the  believing  spirit  both  a privilege  and  a duty,  a kind 
of  moral  necessity.  Man,  the  head  of  the  creation,  was  made 
to  walk  by  faith,  and  not  like  the  animal,  only  by  sense.  It  is 
the  prerogative  of  humanity  as  rational ; it  is  the  necessity  of 
reason  as  human. 

So  are  we  trained  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  Faith  is 
both  the  law  and  the  instinct  of  childhood.  All  early  knowledge 
is  belief ; all  early  inclination  is  to  trust.  Parental  authority  is 
the  child’s  law  and  his  gospel,  parental  care  is  his  life  : “ My 
mother  said  it  ” ; “ my  father  will  do  it  ”.  Then  follows  the  in- 
evitable reign  of  the  book  and  the  teacher  : “ Ipse  dixit  ”.  The 
time  comes  when  the  man  sets  up  for  himself,  and  for  what  he 
calls  original  research.  Is  it  history  ? Here  his  knowledge  is 
testimony  or  inference,  except  what  is  conjecture.  Is  it  science  ? 
His  scientific  knowledge  is  chiefly,  a vast  mosaic  of  other  men’s 
researches.  Is  it  the  field  of  demonstration  ? Every  strict  dem- 
onstration is  but  the  conclusion  from  an  assumption,  and  every 
stage  of  the  process  necessitates  an  absolute  trust  in  the  truth 
and  trustiness  of  the  memory.  In  all  personal  investigation  the 
man  falls'back  on  an  unverifiable  confidence  in  his  faculties,  and 
an  unprovable  persuasion  that  the  unknown  is  like  the  known. 
Throughout  his  business  life,  however  much  he  may  have  been 
deceived  and  defrauded,  he  caqnot  for  an  hour  escape  the  ne- 


5 


cessity  of  confiding  in  his  fellow-men.  Every  dollar  of  the 
Rothschilds’  fortune  is  secure  only  through  the  integrity  of  a 
multitude  of  men  scattered  over  the  world.  All  business  invest 
ment  is  a trust  in  the  future  and  often  in  the  antipodes.  The 
traveller  from  Boston  to  San  Francisco,  blindly  commits  himself 
by  day  and  by  night  to  the  skill  and  fidelity  of  a great  army  of 
engineers,  brakemen,  switch -tenders,  wheel-hammerers  and  sec- 
tion hands,  makers  of  time-tables  and  time-keepers,  mechanics 
of  wheels  and  axles  and  bolts,  and  manufacturers  of  forty  mill- 
ions of  rails,  any  one  of  whom  or  of  which,  if  untrue,  might  land 
him,  not  in  San  Francisco,  but  in  eternity.  At  home  he  trusts  his 
life  and  property  all  the  day  and  all  the  night  to  the  hourly  in- 
tegrity of  his  many  neighbors.  Or  if  once  in  a life-time  he 
appeal  from  the  conduct  of  some  one  of  them,  it  is  still  to  the 
supposed  uprightness  of  courts  and  truthfulness  of  witnesses. 
Some  little  village  lies  nestled  away  among  the  hills.  It  is 
thronged  with  students.  A small  cluster  of  residents,  men, 
women  and  children,  are  in  the  power  of  some  hundreds  of 
young  men  in  the  vigor  of  youthful  strength  and  of  youthful  im- 
pulse. Do  they  lie  down  at  night  in  perpetual  anxiety  lest  their 
property  be  destroyed,  their  houses  burned,  and  themselves 
abused  and  outraged  ? No,  they  sleep  all  the  more  peacefully, 
knowing  that  those  young  men  will  on  the  morrow,  if  need  be, 
exert  their  utmost  strength  to  save  their  homes  from  the  devour- 
ing flames,  and  even  give  of  their  scanty  means  to  relieve  the 
sufferers  by  fire.* 

Such  is  the  settled  and  accepted  condition  of  life.  With 
whatever  qualifications,  we  believe  the  past,  we  trust  the  future, 
we  confide  in  the  present.  We  fling  ourselves  upon  the  waves 
and  the  winds.  We  cast  our  hopes  boldly  upon  the  seasons  of 
the  year  and  the  ancient  promise.  We  put  ourselves  in  the 
hands  of  natural  law,  of  brute  force,  and  of  men,  individually 
and  by  multitudes, — the  men  we  have  seen,  and  the  men  we 
never  saw,  nor  shall  see.  This  vast  network  of  trust  and  confi- 
dence is  interwoven  with  the  woof  of  our  life,  and  entwined  with 
the  fibres  of  our  being.  Our  life,  and  every  part  of  it,  like  some 


*An  allusion  to  what  had  taken  place  in  the  village  of  Hanover,  a few 
weeks  previously. 


6 


Suspension  Bridge,  swings  by  a cable  in  the  air,  with  Niagara 
rolling  beneath ; and  we  ride  boldly  on.  The  attempt  to  evade 
it  or  escape  by  doubt  or  suspicion,  is  fruitless.  It  is  “as  when 
one  fled  from  a lion  and  a bear  met  him.”  Abbas  Pasha  built 
him  a high  watch-tower  and  kept  swift  dromedaries  always  sad- 
dled for  flight ; but  it  could  not  have  saved  him  from  the  hand 
of  the  assassin. 

We  are  also  inclined,  trained  and  compelled  to  live  by  faith 
in  regard  to  things  less  tangible,  and  more  supersensual.  Men 
naturally  accept  implicitly  their  intuitions,  and  are  dominated  by 
their  religious  convictions.  When  one  asked  stout  old  Samuel  J ohn- 
son  how  he  would  deal  with  Berkeley’s  idealism,  “ Sir,”  said  he, 
“ I refute  it  thus  ” — and  he  brought  his  foot  vigorously  against  a 
stone.  Neither  Johnson  nor  mankind  can  be  reasoned  out  of  a 
primary  belief,  ultimate  but  unprovable.  The  agnosticism  which 
would  shut  out  from  human  purview  all  that  is  beyond  and  above, 
is  “ as  much  at  war  with  human  experience,  as  with  reason  and 
revelation.”  In  token  of  profound  belief  in  a future  life,  the 
old  Egyptian  embalmed  his  dead  and  hewed  out  his  vast  tombs 
on  the  banks  of  the  Nile ; and  the  Indian  on  the  shores  of  Lake 
Superior  placed  food  and  weapons,  apparel  and  ornaments  in 
the  grave.  And  so  resolute  has  been  the  faith  of  the  human 
race  in  superior  beings,  that  “ they  will  worship  a stock  or  a 
stone  sooner  than  have  no  God  ”, — will  bow  their  very  intellect 
before  the  demands  of  their  spirit.  Much  more  will  they  cleave 
to  the  dictates  of  their  moral  nature  against  all  puzzling  shows 
of  logical  acuteness.  It  is  useless  for  the  metaphysician,  whether 
he  be  a Tappan  or  even  an  Edwards,  to  say,  “ unless  you  accept 
this  or  that  theory  of  the  will,  you  can  not  hold  to  human  free- 
dom.” I answer  him,  “ My  knowledge  of  my  freedom  is  older, 
deeper,  clearer  than  your  speculations.  They  may — or  may  not — 
go  to  the  winds ; my  freedom  stands  on  a rock.  I know  it  with- 
out you  or  in  spite  of  you.”  Vainly  would  Clifford  or  Tyndall 
parade  their  theory  of  necessitated  action,  and  therefore  no 
proper  responsibility.  We  answer,  “ Your  brain-spinning  can 
no  more  withstand  the  instincts  and  necessities  of  humanity  than 
any  other  spider’s  web.  Responsibility  is  the  ultimate  fact  and 
settled  law  of  humanity,  so  all-embracing  and  inevitable  that  he 
who  denies  it  in  word  will  sternly  hold  all  other  men  responsible 


7 


to  him  in  fact,  and  will  himself  be  held  forever  responsible  by 
‘ all  other  men — and  by  his  Maker  too  ” The  believing  spirit  is 
the  normal,  rational  state,  the  unbelieving  is  abnormal,  unnatural 
and  irrational. 

In  every  line  of  thought  and  action,  doubts  will  occur  and 
perplexities  arise.  But  we  solve  them,  or  act  in  spite  of  them. 
We  see  the  objections,  and  in  view  of  the  proofs  we  overrule 
them.  We  recognize  the  difficulties,  and  under  the  exigency  of 
life  we  over-ride  them.  The  most  cautious  inquiry  must  point  to 
some  settled  result.  A state  of  chronic  indecision  is  intolerable, 
whether  in  the  business  man,  the  scholar,  the  physician,  the  law- 
yer, the  general  or  the  theologian.  Your  business  man  sees  what 
and  how  to  do.  Your  scholar  decides,  or  he  is  no  scholar.  Your 
physician  diagnoses  and  prescribes,  or  you  drop  him.  Your 
judge  finds  out  the  law  and  applies  it.  Your  general  plans,  often 
in  a flash,  and  by  the  flash,  and  fights.  McClellan  doubted  and 
dawdled  ; Grant  believed  and  struck.  While  the  Reverend  Syd- 
ney Smith  questioned  whether  missions  in  India  could  succeed 
or  would  comport  with  the  safety  of  the  British  empire,  Carey, 
Marshman  and  Ward,  his  “ consecrated  cobblers  ”,  were  in  India 
leading  the  vanguard  of  the  great  host  of  Christian  converts,  to 
the  saving  of  souls  and  perhaps  of  the  Indian  empire. 

There  is  no  good  reason  why  the  same  principle  that  prevails 
everwhere  should  halt  upon  the  threshold  of  the  very  highest 
sphere,  religion.  But  there  is  the  best  of  reasons  to  the  contrary, 
in  the  inconceivable  magnitude  of  the  interests.  Unsettlement 
here,  in  the  main  issues  and  fundamental  truths,  instead  of  being 
the  mark  of  strength,  must,  on  every  analogy,  be  regarded  as  the 
token  of  weakness.  It  is  but  mental  and  moral  flabbiness.  And 
though,  not  seldom,  good  men  attain  to  bright  hope  through  long 
distressing  doubts, — and  we  rejoice  in  the  issue, — is  it  at  all 
needful  to  desire  the  process — much  less  to  call  it  the  necessary 
or  even  natural  way?  Is  it  the  only  or  the  best  way  to  confirmed 
temperance  through  inebriety,  or  to  health  though  dangerous  dis- 
ease ? I believe  it  to  be  our  privilege  to  reach  the  full  assurance 
of  faith,  without  the  long  conflict  with  darkness.  But  whether 
or  not  we  pass  by  that  way,  it  is  our  privilege  and  our  duty  not 
to  have  our  home  in  the  dark  valley  but  to  come  out  and  dwell 
in  the  clear  light. 


8 


For  the  main  aspects  of  our  spiritual  relationships  are  plain 
and  simple  : an  intellect  looking,  a heart  yearning,  a conscience 
commanding,  towards  the  One  Supreme  Excellence ; that  glori- 
ous One  shadowing  forth  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead  in  the 
visible  things  of  creation,  openly  declaring  himself  in  the  Divine 
and  matchless  Word,  unveiling  himself  tenderly  and  intimately  in 
that  mighty  Saviour  whose  historic  coming  revolutionized  the 
world’s  career,  whose  living  power  and  presence  are  as  manifest 
all  over  the  world  to-day  as  in  Jerusalem  eighteen  centuries  ago, 
and  whose  calm  voice  calls  to  every  man,  “ rise  and  follow  me.” 
Surely  the  benign  influence  of  the  blessed  sun  is  hardly  more  un- 
mistakable than  of  him  who  calls  himself  “ the  light  of  the  world.” 
It  is  inscribed  in  the  volume  of  the  book,  on  the  human  soul,  in 
the  Christian  life,  on  all  modern  history.  Open  rejectors  have 
often  been,  in  their  hour  of  candor,  his  strongest  witnesses.  How 
such  men  as  Rousseau  the  profligate  skeptic,  Carlyle  the  rugged 
deist,  Napoleon  the  heartless  but  lynx-eyed  semi-pagan,  Mill  the 
hereditary  unbeliever,  Lecky  the  free-thinking  historian,  rise  up  to 
rebuke  the  Matthew  Arnolds  and  their  congeners  for  their  shuf- 
fling evasions  of  Christ’s  character,  claims  and  religion.  When 
a Christian  clergyman  writes  of  “ the  Ten  great  Religions  ” of 
which  Christ’s  is  but  one,  he  might  well  listen  to  the  great  Scotch- 
man, when  he  says,  “ We  often  hear  the  Christian  doctrine  liken- 
ed to  the  Greek  philosophy,  and  found  on  all  hands  in  some 
measurable  way  superior  to  it.  But  the  Christian  doctrine  is 
not  superior  or  inferior  or  equal  to  any  doctrine  of  Socrates  or 
Thales,  being  of  a totally  different  nature.  He  who  compares  it 
with  such  standards  may  well  lament  that  the  loftiest  feeling 
hitherto  vouchsafed  to  mankind  is  as  yet  hidden  from  his  eyes.” 
To  those  who  would  patronize  the  Saviour  as  only  the  best  of 
men,  there  comes  the  voice  from  St.  Helena,  “ Between  him  and 
whosoever  else  in  the  world,  there  is  no  possible  term  of  com- 
parison. He  is  truly  a being  by  himself.  His  truth  and  the  his- 
tory of  his  life,  the  profundity  of  his  doctrine,  his  gospel,  his 
apparition,  his  empire,  his  march  across  the  ages  and  the  realms 
— everything  is  to  me  a prodigy,  an  insoluble  mystery,  a mystery 
which  is  there  before  my  eyes,  a mystery  which  I can  neither  deny 
nor  explain.  Here  I see  nothing  human.”  To  those  who  push 
by  his  claims  as  some  ideal  or  mythical  creation,  there  comes,  in 


9 


the  posthumous  Essays  of  John  Mill,  a voice  from  the  grave, 
speaking  thus  : “ It  is  of  no  use  to  say  that  Christ  as  exhibited 
in  the  gospels  is  not  historical  and  that  we  know  not  how  much 
of  what  is  admirable  has  been  superadded  by  the  tradition  of  his 
followers.  Who  among  his  disciples  was  capable  of  inventing  the 
sayings  ascribed  to  Jesus  or  of  imagining  the  life  and  character 
revealed  in  the  gospels  ” ? To  those  who  talk  of  a mere  law  of 
human  progress  comes  the  bold  utterance  of  Lecky,  “ It  was  re- 
served for  Christianity  to  present  to  the  world  an  ideal  character 
which  through  all  the  changes  of  eighteen  centuries  has  filled  the 
hearts  of  men  with  an  impassioned  love,  and  has  shown  itself 
capable  of  acting  on  all  ages,  nations,  temperaments  and  condi- 
tions ; and  has  exerted  so  deep  an  influence  that  it  may  be  truly 
said,  that  the  simple  record  of  three  short  years  of  active  life  has 
done  more  to  regenerate  and  soften  mankind  than  all  the  disqui- 
sitions of  the  philosophers  and  all  the  exhortations  of  the  moral- 
ists.” What  a thorough-going  testimony — and  how  strictly  true  ! 

Indeed  faith  in  Christ  and  his  religion  is  a certitude  that 
may  be  said  in  our  day  to  have  risen  in  certain  aspects  to  the 
level  of  knowledge,  in  the  verification  that  is  before  and  within 
us.  A seemingly  defenceless  man  once  promised  to  conquer  an 
opposing  world  by  being  miserably  slain.  “ And  the  mode  of 
the  accomplishment,”  said  the  great  captain,  “ is  more  prodig- 
ious than  the  promise.  In  this  conflict  I see  all  the  kings  and 
forces  of  the  earth  arrayed  on  one  side.  On  the  other  I see  no 
army,  but  a mysterious  energy,  no  rallying  sign  but  a cross.”  Yet 
by  this  sign  it  has  gone  forth  to  conquer.  He  who  asks  even  for 
miracle  has  before  him  “ the  perpetual  miracle  ” of  the  ever-liv- 
ing presence  and  power  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  progress  of  the 
faith  and  the  government  and  growth  of  his  church.  Imagine, 
if  you  can,  dead  “ Caesar  from  his  mausoleum  ” guiding  eternally 
the  destinies  of  Rome ; or  dead  Alexander  from  the  tombs  of 
the  Ptolemies  leading  his  armies  on  to  perpetual  victory ; or 
dead  Napoleon  from  beneath  the  splendid  canopy  of  battle  flags 
that  overhang  his  coffin,  and  by  some  weird  and  “ midnight  re- 
veille ”,  gathering  up  again  for  an  hour  the  relics  of  his  vast  hosts 
and  the  fragments  of  his  mighty  empire  ! But  the  crucified  Christ  is 
to-day  a living,  reigning,  conquering  power  on  every  continent  of 
the  globe.  Here  is  your  world  wide,  age-long  miracle — gather- 


10 


ing  within  its  divine  sweep  not  alone  slow  transformations  of 
great  empires,  but  sudden  revolutions  of  low  savage  races,  and 
countless  individual  regenerations,  from  Paul  and  Augustine  down 
to  Guergis  and  Africaner.  And,  to  complete  the  assurance  and 
raise  it  in  part  to  the  very  plane  of  conscious  knowledge,  the  be- 
nign influence  comes  to  a man’s  own  heart  and  life  so  unmistak- 
ably that  he  can  say,  “ Now  I believe,  not  because  of  thy  saying; 
for  I have  heard  him  myself  and  know  that  this  is  the  Christ  the 
Savior  of  the  world.” 

He  that  ponders  all  this  “ superhuman  agency  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  history  ” and  in  life, — and  experiences  it  too — may  well 
have  positive  convictions,  even  “the full  assurance  of  faith.”  He 
can  say  with  stronger  emphasis  than  did  Carlyle,  that  “ the  Chris- 
tian religion,  once  here,  cannot  again  pass  away.”  It  is  here 
to  stay,  here  to  work,  here  to  triumph.  He  has  no  apologies 
for  it  or  any  of  its  belongings,  no  fears  for  its  fate.  And  joined 
with  this  grand  central  trust;  there  must  be  and  there  will,  faith 
in  the  truth  and  the  right,  faith  in  virtue  and  in  work,  faith  in 
woman  and  faith  in  good  men,  faith  in  every  righteous  cause  and 
faith  only  in  righteous  means,  faith  in  prayer  and  in  providence, 
faith  in  progress  and  in  ultimate  success ; faith  to  labor  and  to 
wait ; faith  to  toil  on  in  darkness  and  alone  ; faith  to  struggle  and 
silently  endure  ; faith  to  hold  on.  and  hold  out;  faith  even  to  sit 
still  and  see  the  salvation  of  our  God. 

II.  See  now  the  value  of  a strong  positive  faith  like  this — 
its  value,  I mean,  to  its  possessor.  Its  value  is  felt  throughout 
its  entire  range,  whether  in  whole  or  in  part,  and  from  the  top  to 
the  bottom  of  the  scale. 

It  is  a benign  stimulus.  The  pursuit  of  a man’s  life  or  his 
enterprise  of  the  day  should  carry  his  interest,  and  his  confidence 
that  it  is,  for  him  and  for  the  time,  the  sphere  and  the  work.  It 
makes  cheerful  toil,  buoyant  spirits.  Men  must  believe  in  their 
callings,  whatever  they  be,  so  long  as  they  are  honest.  A true 
farmer  should  have  as  genuine  an  enthusiasm  as  a merchant  or  a 
lawyer.  Shame  on  him  who  is  ashamed.  When  the  physician 
loses  faith  in  medical  science,  let  him  depart.  When  the  minister 
ceases  to  feel  that  his  work  is  the  noblest,  he  has  a call  to  with- 
draw. The  first  Napoleon  used  often  to  say,  “ when  I was  lieuten- 
ant.” When  Carey  in  India  sat  as  an  honored  guest  at  the  Gov- 


ernor  General’s  table,  and  overheard  a petty  officer  inquire,  “ was 
not  that  man  once  a shoe  maker  ? ” “ No,  sir”,  said  Carey,  “only 
a cobbler.”  But  he  knew  he  had  cobbled  well.  If  Irving  and 
Prescott  had  no  zeal  for  the  law,  they  did  well  to  look  elsewhere. 
When  Sterling  and  Emerson  lost  faith  in  the  clerical  function, 
nothing  became  them  so  well  as  the  leaving  of  it. 

I do  not  for  a moment  concede,  however,  that  a man  can  have 
a confidence  only  in  some  certain  spheres  and  occupations.  Much 
less  would  I countenance  the  not  infrequent  plea  of  the  young 
student  that  he  has  no  interest  in  certain  branches  of  a well-bal- 
anced education,  no  drawing  towards  them ; therefore  he  should 
be  released  from  them.  Nay,  but  he  is  bound  to  have  both  faith 
and  zeal  for  the  things  that  stand  approved  by  the  best  wisdom 
of  the  past  and  present ; bound,  on  that  evidence  to  believe  in 
his  mathematics  and  his  science,  and  especially  in  his  classics  as 
indispensable  to  the  highest  training ; and  if  he  have  no  interest, 
to  awaken  one.  If  he  is  a true  man  he  will.  His  antipathies 
betray  his  necessities.  The  principle,  “ similia  similibus  curan- 
tur,”  will  never  work  here.  The  lacking  interest  must  be  roused 
by  faith, — faith  in  his  elders  and  his  betters.  A man  is  not  to 
be  tied  up  by  his  narrow  and  callow  propensities.  Good  man- 
hood lies  in  the  power  to  throw  mind  and  heart  and  hand  into 
this  thing  or  that,  as  Divine  Providence  may  call.  And  faith  in 
the  call  shall  change  drudgery  to  delight. 

Another  function  of  value  is,  that  such  strong  positive  con- 
victions give  the  steadiness  of  purpose  which  is  a chief  element 
in  every  high  human  career.  Men  live  for  the  day.  They  see 
only  what  is  just  here.  The  young  student  has  no  controlling 
sense  of  the  future,  and  therefore  he  trifles  away  the  present  on 
which  it  hangs.  The  young  professional  man  cannot  toil  patient- 
ly till  his  opportunity  comes ; and  so,  when  it  comes,  it  goes. 
Here  and  there  the  man  of  intense  and  masterful  convictions  la- 
bors and  waits,  and  takes  his  prize.  Sometimes  against  all 
probabilites — as  when  the  young  adventurer,  D’lsraeli,  struck  for 
a hearing  in  Parliament  and  the  Premiership  of  Britain.  But  it  is 
with  the  fixedness  of  such  convictions  and  with  such  consequent 
steadiness  of  purpose  that  the  scholar,  the  artist,  the  discoverer, 
the  professionalist,  and  above  all,  the  Christian  toiler,  have 
achieved  their  highest  successes.  Heyne  delving  at  his  classics 


12 


with  but  two  nights’  sleep  a week ; Mendelssohn  nine  years  per- 
fecting his  Elijah ; Webster  lavishing  time  and  money  on  some 
blacksmith’s  case  for  a fifteen  dollar  fee ; Schliemann,  from  the 
age  of  seven  seeing  the  ruins  of  Troy  beneath  the  dust  of  ages, 
and  struggling  towards  it  forty  years  ; Kepler  willing  to  wait  two 
hundred  years,  if  need  be,  for  the  acceptance  of  his  discoveries  ; 
the  Plymouth  Pilgrims  silently  harboring  “ a great  hope  and 
inward  zeal  of  laying  a foundation  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ  in 
these  remote  parts,  though  they  should  be  but  as  stepping  stones 
unto  others  for  performing  so  great  a work,” — these  are  the 
men.  And  naturally  enough  it  is  in  the  sphere  of  religion  that 
faith,  Christian  faith,  has  shown  its  marvelous  power  of  steady 
perseverance ; and  the  bright  catalogue  would  contain  volumes 
of  names  from  Paul  to  Livingstone. 

Such  men  can  work  and  pray — and  wait.  It  is  sad  to  hear 
the  true  cause  of  temperance  pushed  by  false  arguments.  It 
was  a pitiful  thing  that  some  of  the  men  who  a generation  ago 
made  valiant  fight  against  American  slavery,  must  needs  grow 
so  impatient  as  to  wage  war  upon  the  Bible  and  the  church,  be- 
cause these  were  not  fast  enough  for  their  fiery  ardor.  And  most 
melancholy  was  it  on  the  4th  of  July  1842,  to  hear  in  the  Method- 
ist church  in  Andover,  Mass.,  William  Lloyd  Garrison  even 
petulantly  wish  that  the  lightinings  of  heaven  might  blast 
Bunker  Hill  monument.  But  his  voice  is  silent ; the  Bible 
speaks ; the  church  lives  ; the  monument  stands  ; — and  slavery 
is  dead.  Faith  in  God  can  use  God’sappointed  methods  and 
await  his  time. 

It  is  for  the  want  of  clear  convictions,  alike  high  and 
dominant,  worthy  of  being  called  faith,  that  so  many  a gifted 
man  has  proved  a wretched  failure.  Benjamin  Constant  one 
of  the  brightest  minds  of  France,  yet  avowedly  without  faith 
in  virtue  or  honor,  earned  the  name  of  “ Constant  the  in- 
constant,” made  his  life  a wail,  and  his  end  a conscious 
abortion.  The  world  is  full  of  such  failures,  partial  or  total. 
While  we  recognize  the  brilliant  achievments  of  such  men  as  Poe, 
Byron,  Burns,  Mirabeau,  we  cannot  forget  how  each  of  them 
burned  out  his  life  with  passion  and  vice  before  he  reached  his 
proper  prime  ; and,  strikingly  enough,  it  is  Carlyle  who  avers 
that  the  radical  lack  of  Burns  was  “ religion,”  and  says  of  Byron 


3 


that  “ Satan  was  the  hero  of  his  poetry  and  apparantly  the  model 
of  his  conduct.” 

See,  once  more,  how  the  positive  faith  brings  repose  and 
quietude  of  spirit.  Men  rejoice  to  be  well  anchored.  In  pro- 
portion as  doubts  run  deep  and  high,  is  the  heavy  ground-swell 
of  unrest.  Paradoxically  but  truly  has  the  vacuum  of  the  heart 
been  called  “ an  aching  void  ”.  And  one  might  almost  say, 

“ Great  God ! I’d  rather  be 
A Pagan  suckled  in  a creed  outworn, 

So  might  I,  standing  on  this  pleasant  lea, 

Have  glimpses  that  would  make  me  less  forlorn  ; 

Have  sight  of  Proteus  rising  from  the  sea 
Or  hear  old  Triton  blow  his  wreathed  horn.” 

Hume  said  he  was  “ appalled  at  the  forlorn  solitude  in  which  he 
was  placed  by  his  philosophy.”  Miss  Martineau,  while  boast- 
ing of  her  “ freedom  from  old  superstition  ”,  cannot  but  speak 
in  the  same  breath,  of  “ all  the  peace  and  quiet  of  orthodoxy.” 
A late  atheist  writer*  avowed  the  great  “ pang  ” with  which  he 
cut  loose  from  the  moorings  of  Christianity.  Later  still,  Vernon 
Lee  by  the  mouth  of  Vere,*  confesses  that  his  settled  material- 
ism is  “ bitter  and  abominable,  arid  and  icy  to  our  hearts.”  And 
there  are  few  sadder  or  more  “ haggard  ” things  than  the  last 
days  of  John  Sterling,  when  having  once  for  all  said,  “Adieu,  oh 
church,  in  God’s  name  adieu  ”,  three  years  later,  in  the  last  sta- 
ges of  consumption,  he  wrote  to  his  nearest  friend — whom  he 
would  not  see, — “ on  higher  matters  there  is  nothing,  to  say.  I 
tread  the  common  road  into  the  great  darkness.  Certainty,  in- 
deed, I have  none.”  For  when  one  who  has  deliberately  parted 
with  all  the  consoling  hopes  of  the  gospel,  looks  through  the 
high  cliffs  that  part  this  sea  of  life  from  the  great  unknown 
ocean  of  eternity,  he  may  well  sing  with  a deeper  pathos  than 
the  poet’s, 

“ Break,  break,  break, 

At  the  foot  of  thy  crags,  O sea  ! 

But  the  tender  grace  of  a day  that  is  dead 

Will  never  come  back  to  me.” 


*Candid  Examination  of  Theism. 
^Contemporary  Review,  May  1883. 


14 


The  firm  and  positive  faith,  rationally  formed,  carries  rest.  We 
see  a semblance  of  it  even  in  the  “ Kismet  ” of  the  Moslem,  the 
“fortunes”  of  Caesar,  and  the  “destiny”  of  Napoleon;  but 
the  reality  in  the  “ good  Providence  ” of  the  trusting  child  of 
God.  The  sailors  on  the  Mediterranean  were  amazed  by  John 
Howard’s  perfect  calmness  under  the  pirate’s  attack  ; and  equally 
amazing  was  the  coolness  with  which  at  the  end  of  the  voyage 
he  shut  himself  up  in  a plague  hospital  at  Venice.  It  was  on 
his  high  errand  of  mercy ; and  the  secret  of  his  calmness  may 
be  read  in  his  journal,  “ Oh  God,  my  heart  is  fixed,  trusting  in 
thee.”  “ Where,”  said  the  pope’s  legate  to  Luther  at  the  begin- 
ning of  his  stormy  career,  “ where  will  you  find  a resting-place”? 
“ Under  Heaven,”  said  Martin  Luther.  From  the  vortex  of  the 
tempest  in  its  fury,  he  exclaimed,  “ Oh  crafty  Satan  ! But  Christ 
is  abler  than  thou.”  And  two  days  before  the  end  of  all,  he 
wrote,  “ Grace  and  peace  in  the  Lord,  dear  Catharine.  I have 
one  that  takes  care  of  me  better  than  thou,  or  any  of  the  angels 
could,  one  who  is  seated  at  the  right  hand  of  God  Almighty.” 
He  had  marched  through  life  to  his  own  hymn,  “ Ein  feste  Burg 
ist  unser  Gott.” 

In  recent  and  peaceful  times  there  have  been  few  nobler 
exhibitions  than  the  composure  of  Thomas  Arnold,  under  the 
tremendous  storm  of  public  and  private  obloquy  that  for  four 
years  beat  mercilessly  around  his  head,  till  “ even  his  personal 
acquaintances,”  says  Dean  Stanley  “ began  to  look  upon  him 
with  alarm,  some  dropped  their  intercourse  altogether,  hardly 
any  were  able  fully  to  sympathize  with  him,  and  almost  all  re- 
monstrated. He  himself  was  startled,”  continues  Stanley,  “ but 
not  moved.”  He  bore  all  in  silence,  adhered  to  his  principles, 
and  held  on  his  way.  The  clue  to  his  composure  may  be  read 
in  his  journal,  ten  years  later,  written  on  that  last  night  before 
his  sudden  death  : “Above  all,  let  me  mind  my  own  personal 
work — to  keep  myself  pure  and  zealous,  and  believing .”  And 
the  issue  of  that  personal  work,  the  English  world  now  knows 
by  heart.  Priceless  is  the  value  of  such  a faith  in  God  and  the 
right. 

III.  A strong  positive  faith  is  the  source  of  power. 

And  here  we  must  distinguish  between  a faith  worthy  to  be 
so  called,  that  is,  a deep  conviction  having  a high  object  and  a 


5 


rational  basis,  on  the  one  hand,  and  a mere  blind  determination, 
a wilful  fixedness  of  purpose  prompted  by  low  aspirations,  and 
founded  on  no  true  principle,  it  may  be  on  positive  wrong.  There 
is  hot  seldom  seen  such  a wilful  purpose,  and  it  has  its  transient 
power  like  the  force  of  the  bull  or  the  bull-dog,  when  the  one 
shuts  his  eyes  and  dashes  on,  and  the  other  shuts  his  teeth  and 
clings  till  death.  Yet  the  bull-dog  has  but  his  day,  and  the  bull 
in  the  arena  is  slain  at  last. 

Similar  is  the  fate  of  the  wilful  and  wrongful  combination. 
Every  “ ring  ” breaks  up  at  last.  It  fails  to  bind  the  right  cause, 
or  cripple  the  right  man.  In  the  long  run,  Cromwell  and  Wash- 
ington, Lincoln . and  Gladstone  are  sure  to  win  against  their 
def aimers  and  assailants.  Truth  and  faith  and  courage  walk 
through  unhurt. 

The  nearest  approach  to  the  power  of  a worthy  faith  may 
be  seen  in  the  influence  of  the  chief  illusions  of  life,  and  the 
controlling  force  of  its  higher  enterprises.  Wealth  on  the  brain 
binds  a man,  as  Rothschild  said  he  would  bind  his  son,  “ mind, 
soul,  heart  and  body,”  and  wins  it,  if  it  can  be  won.  So  politics, 
fame,  pleasure.  Did  the  disillusioning  process  which  comes  at 
the  end,  come  at  the  beginning,  what  a collapse  would  the  world 
show. 

It  is  the  strong  conviction  of  the  greatness  and  worth  of 
science  that  has  wrought  such  results,  sending  its  Pliny  into  the 
deadly  fumes  of  Vesuvius,  and  its  Franklin  to  the  fatal  ice-cliffs 
of  the  North,  keeping  a Herschell  and  Darwin  on  perpetual  watch 
upon  the  heavens  or  the  earth,  a Davy  or  a Pasteur  in  courses  of 
life-long  experiment.  Hence  the  long  patient  struggles  of  the 
inventor,  often  in  poverty ; hence  the  great  achievements  for  the 
world’s  benefit,  amid  discouragement,  doubt  and  ridicule.  This 
spirit  has  dredged  the  ocean,  tracked  the  glacier,  climbed  Chimbo- 
razo, pierced  the  dark  continent,  and  weighed  the  far-off  planet. 
How  has  a sense  of  the  grandeur  of  his  sphere  moved  the  hand 
and  fired  the  heart  of  the  great  artist  as  he  has  said  to  himself, 
“ I paint  for  eternity.”  The  greatness  of  his  country  has  loomed 
up  on  the  sight  of  the  patriot  till  he  would  die  on  the  battle-field 
or  pine  in  the  hospital ; and  America  free  and  America  freed  is 
the  double  monument  of  that  mighty  conviction. 


i6 


These  things  bear  pondering.  There  are  sermons  in  them — 
theologies.  They  point  us  upward  to  the  higher  faith — the  high- 
est. For  if  allegiance  to  truth  and  right  in  their  subordinate 
forms,  as  loyalty  to  science  and  to  country,  can  work  such  achieve- 
ments, what  should  be  the  power  of  the  supreme  allegiance  ? 
Accordingly  the  world  has  seen  that  the  difference  between  a 
heart  vitalized  with  a great  faith  in  God,  and  a heart  empty  of 
all  faith  in  God  or  goodness,  is  the  difference  between  the  green 
valley  of  the  Nile  and  the  desert  through  which  it  lies.  What 
one  grand  achievement,  what  one  great  benefaction  have  all  the 
blank  doubt,  skepticism  or  agnosticism  since  the  world  began, 
brought  to  the  world  ? Which  of  the  myriad  charities  has  it  or- 
ganized and  maintained  ? What  nation  has  it  lifted  ? What 
community  has  it  purified  ? What  vicious  circle  has  it  reformed  ? 
What  one  blasted  character  has  it  regenerated  ? What  soul  has 
it  raised  to  the  heights  of  godlike  magnanimity?  Yea,  what 
enduring  monument  of  highest  genius  has  it  erected  ? From 
nothing,  nothing  comes.  Zero  multiplied  by  millions,  is  zero 
still.  Darkness  can  not  give  light.  The  vacuum  of  the  heart  is 
an  exhausted  receiver  to  the  life.  When  Brutus  could  say  at 
Philippi,  “ Oh  virtue,  I have  followed  thee  through  life  and  found 
thee  at  last  but  a shade  ”,  let  him  fall  on  his  sword. 

The  best  things  of  Paganism  have  been  found  where  it  ap- 
proached nearest  the  verities  of  true  religion.  The  pyramids  are 
perpetual  monuments  of  a belief  in  immortality.  The  finest 
statuary,  the  noblest  temples,  the  highest  poetry,  sprang  from  the 
time  when  the  heavens  were  real  to  men.  The  greatest  oration 
of  Demosthenes  derives  its  chief  momentum  from  the  almost 
Christian  grandeur  of  its  moral  attitude.  In  the  dark  ages  of 
the  church,  those  splendid  cathedrals  and  noble  paintings  embody 
the  deep  religious  sentiment.  And  in  modern  times  if  it  be  true, 
as  one  said,  that  “ an  institution  is  the  lengthened  shadow  of 
some  man,  as  the  Reformation  of  Luther,  Quakerism  of  Fox, 
Methodism  of  Wesley,  Abolition  of  Wilberforce,”  it  is  also  true 
that  the  germ  of  the  Institution  was  the  burning  faith  of  the 
man.  Wilberforce  speaks  for  them,  one  and  all,  when  he  wrote 
in  his  journal,  “ God  Almighty  has  set  before  me  two  great  ob- 
jects, the  suppression  of  the  slave  trade,  and  the  reformation  of 


i7 

manners  ”,  and  when  he  wrote  to  his  sister,  “ be  the  love  of 
Christ  our  talisman.” 

Sometimes  we  can  fix  our  eye  on  the  time  when  the  power  of 
achievement  for  good  entered  the  man,  with  the  inflow  of 
vital  religion  to  his  soul.  There  was  a time  when  an  indifferent 
and  formal  young  preacher  at  Kilmany  suddenly  waked  to 
the  real  meaning  of  Christ’s  gospel,  and  the  transformation  was 
as  complete  as  when  some  great  magazine  of  combustibles  re- 
ceives the  torch.  For  the  dry  wooden  mass  kindled  and  blazed 
and  glowed  with  a flame  that  sent  its  warmth  through  all  Scot- 
land, and  its  light  to  India  and  the  world.  It  was  Thomas 
Chalmers  regenerated,  a true  believer  in  Christ.  The  easy-going 
kirkmen  said  “ Chalmers  is  mad  ; ” but  it  was  with  the  same 
madness  that  had  infected  Paul  before  him,  and  the  whole  com- 
pany that  under  Christ  have  been  revolutionizing  the  world. 

For  the  world  itself,  in  its  present  attitude  and  outlook,  with 
its  missions  and  beneficences  and  mighty  working  forces  for  good, 
is  but  the  Wren-like  monument  of  such  a faith.  Men  have  be- 
lieved and  therefore  they  spoke ; believed  with  all  their  being, 
and  spoke  with  all  their  power,  with  tongue  and  pen  and  life. 
Their  cause  was  as  resistless  as  their  faith  was  bright.  They 
have  labored  while  they  lived,  and  conquered  when  they  fell. 
For  there  was  an  invisible  force  which  dungeons  could  not  hold, 
sword  and  cannon  could  not  kill,  flames  could  not  burn,  nor 
waters  drown.  Borne  on  by  such  a faith  as  this — a faith  which 
Christ’s  gospel  itself  inspires  and  maintains — that  gospel  has 
made  its  way.  Despised  and  persecuted  by  the  despised  race 
from  which  it  sprung,  it  rose  to  life  as  the  nation  fell.  Emerg- 
ing from  its  native  home,  it  made  for  the  great  cities  that  hug 
the  Mediterranean,  the  seats  of  power  and  centres  of  civilization. 
Without  one  mortal  weapon  of  offense  or  defense,  it  boldly 
grappled  with  every  wrong.  It  stood  meekly  unresisting  when 
the  Empire  ten  times  in  succession  threw  its  huge  weight  upon 
It,  and  then  rose  from  the  crush  unharmed.  It  in  turn  threw 
itself  upon  the  Empire,  mounted  its  throne,  spread  through  and 
beyond  its  territory ; “ it  gathered  all  genius  and  learning  unto 
itself,  and  made  the  literature  of  the  world  its  own ; it  survived 
the  inundation  of  the  barbarian  tribes  and  conquered  the  world 
once  more  by  converting  the  conquerors  to  the  faith ; it  survived 


i8 


he  restoration  of  letters  ” ; survived  the  corruptions  of  the 
church  itself ; “ survived  an  age  of  free  inquiry  and  skepticism, 
and  has  long  stood  its  ground  in  the  field  of  argument,  com- 
manding the  intelligent  assent  of  the  greatest  minds  that  ever 
were  ”,  and  outwardly  controlling  the  great  empires  that  now 
control  the  earth.  And  to-day  it  stands  girded  with  youthful 
strength,  waving  the  banner  of  the  cross  for  a forward  movement 
all  along  the  line  upon  the  strongest  entrenchments  of  the  pow- 
ers of  darkness,  hearkening  to  its  Great  Captain’s  command, 
“ Go  ye  into  all  the  world  ”,  and  to  his  promise  “ I am  with  you 
alway.” 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating  Classes  : 

I invite  you,  and  each  of  you,  to  join  the  goodly  company 
of  those  who  speak  and  act  from  profound  and  positive  convic- 
tions, and  especially  upon  the  greatest  issues.  I invite  you  to 
go  forth  to  your  life  work  with  fixed  and  well  considered  princi- 
ples,— principles  worthy  of  the  name,  because  they  are  thoroughly 
right  and  true  and  tried — principles  in  which  you  can  put  a con- 
fiding faith,  and  on  which  you  can  safely  lay  out,  or  lay  down, 
your  life. 

Choose  a pursuit  you  believe  in,  and  act  out  your  belief. 
Honor  it,  and  it  will  honor  you.  Prepare  for  it  in  quiet  trust. 
In  it  do  a man’s  good  work,  believingly.  Come  out  from  the 
company  of  idlers  and  triflers  and  learn  to  labor  and  to  wait. 
Learn  that. great  secret  of  success,  to  “be  ready  when  the  oppor- 
tunity comes.”  Here  is  the  sphere  for  a silent,  patient  faith. 

In  whatever  profession,  be  more  than  a professionalist : be 
also  a true  man,  with  profound  and  positive  convictions  on  all 
high  things,  which  no  professional  policy  shall  prevent  your 
speaking  out,  if  need  be,  “ in  words  as  round  and  hard  as  can- 
non balls.” 

And,  above  all,  let  me  invite  you  to  ally  yourself  personally 
by  a living  faith  to  that  one  central  Source  of  all  high  principle, 
holy  motive,  lofty  aim  and  noble  endeavor — to  Him  who  stands 
out  in  his  divine  isolation  as  at  once  example,  incentive,  guide, 
helper  and  reward — Him  who  presents  himself  to  you  and  the 
whole  world  saying,  “ I am  the  way,  the  truth  and  the  life  ” — 


9 


Him  who  is  riding  forth  conquering  and  to  conquor  till  every  eye 
shall  see  him  move  ; — to  Him  ally  yourselves  livingly  and  loving 
ly,  and  it  shall  be  your  privilege,  your  blessing  and  your  power. 
The  prayer  of  that  greatest  of  geniuses,  Michael  Angelo,  is  none 
too  lowly  or  too  trustful  for  you  : 


“ My  unassisted  heart  is  barren  day 
That  of  its  native  self  can  nothing  feed ; 

Of  good  and  pious  works  thou  art  the  seed, 

That  quickens  only  where  thou  sayest  it  may ; 
Unless  thou  show  to  us  thine  own  true  way, 

No  man  can  find  it : Father ! thou  must  lead. 

Do  thou  then  breathe  those  thoughts  into  my  mind, 
By  which  such  virtue  in  me  may  be  bred 
That  in  thy  holy  footsteps  I may  tread : 

The  fetters  of  my  tongue  do  thou  unbind, 

That  I may  have  the  power  to  sing  of  thee 
And  sound  thy  praises  everlastingly.” 


